


All These Memories Run My Mind in Slow Motion

by bappy211



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Adorable Jensen Ackles, Adorable Misha Collins, Birthday, Cockles, D/s undertones, Dom Misha Collins, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Gift Giving, Jenmish, Light Dom/sub, M/M, My First AO3 Post, My first dive into rpf, Post-Finale, Sad Jensen Ackles, Singing Jensen Ackles, Sub Jensen Ackles, adorable idiots, in honor of his birthday, mention of breakup, mention of breakup theory era, mountain man jensen, supernatural ending feels, the rusty nail strikes again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:34:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29781051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bappy211/pseuds/bappy211
Summary: Danneel plans for Jensen and Misha to have some much needed time together before Jensen leaves to film for The Boys. Misha has a wonderfully thoughtful gift for Jensens birthday that sends them walking down memory lane and replaying some of their favorite, and not so favorite, moments over the last decade.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles & Misha Collins, Jensen Ackles/Danneel Harris, Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of Jensens birthday I decided to post my first fic! The main stories throughout the fic are actual cockles moments, but I’ve definitely taken liberty with a few to fill in some blanks and make the overall story a bit more entertaining. Of course, I have no “insider” information, this is purely fiction, I have no ties to the people mentioned in the story and don’t pretend to know anything about them that the general public doesn’t. 
> 
> Title and chapter titles are from the song 'Rome' by Dermot Kennedy
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter One** : I Just Wanna Be There Again

“Hey J, where are you?” Danneel yells through their home as she closes the front door behind her. 

“Hey babe,” Jensen says as he rounds the corner, all three of their children quite literally hanging off of him. With a twin wrapped around each leg, and their oldest sitting on his shoulders. Danneel grins as he bends down to place a kiss on her forehead. She helps him disengage the kids, corralling them to the other room to play as she leads Jensen to the kitchen where they can talk without little ears eavesdropping, but still keep a watchful eye on them. 

Jensen hoists himself up to sit on the counter, pulling Danneel close, settling her between his legs.

“How was your day darling?” he asks. 

“Oh fine, I have a surprise for you!” she answers, vibrating excitedly, clearly proud of herself for whatever she has come up with.

“Oh? And what is that?” Jensen asks, eyebrow shooting up questioningly. 

Before Danneel can answer there is a sudden scream from the other room, unintelligible bickering followed. 

“Hey, what’s going on in there?” Jensen shouts over his wife's head, dad voice fully activated. In response JJ pokes her head into the kitchen, “Oh nothing, we’re fine, thanks,” quickly disappearing again, waiting for a sign they should intervene but not getting one. Jensen glances back down at Danneel. 

“So, what’s my surprise?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at her

. 

“Calm down casanova,” she responds, rolling her eyes. “So, your birthday is coming up, and Misha and I have been talking,” Jensen's face goes soft at the mention of the other man - it had been months since they last saw one another in person. Sure, they had semi-regular facetime chats, but it wasn’t the same. “And we decided to set something up for you, so you guys can spend some time together before you go off to Toronto for filming. You’ll both be getting a covid test this week, results should be back by the weekend. The kids and I are going to head back to Austin to help with cleanup at the brewery and get things back up and running there and Misha will be making his way here so you guys can spend your last week in the states together.” Danneel explains matter of factly, clearly not wanting any protest from her husband about cutting their own time short before he leaves for a few months again. He knows they’ve had more time together over the last year than ever before, but just thinking about being without his family for an extended time again leaves him feeling hollow. He’s gotten used to the kids running around, having Dee occupying the space next to him, cuddling in to watch movies together, loading the kids up to go sledding in the fluffy Colorado snow. To be without all of that again, even for a short time, is going to suck. 

Danneel notices the sadness taking over her husband's features as he hangs his head, she wiggles closer, places her finger under his chin, lifting his face to meet hers and places a kiss on his cheek. “Hey, none of that. We’ll miss you too, but babe, you need time with Mish, you both miss each other, you’ve both been miserable and on edge lately, and we all know the best solution to that is for you boys to have some time together. Besides, after all the snow and ice in Austin the brewery needs help cleaning up the downed trees and water damage so we can get it back up and running.”

Jensen tightens his grip around Dee, a small smile creeping across his face as he thinks about having Misha here with him. Getting uninterrupted time together is definitely something he’s been craving, the man had settled him in ways no one else could. He loves his wife immensely, and knows he is beyond lucky to have found someone who also understands the relationship he and the other man share, probably even better than he did most days. She always knew when he needed Misha, knew when to call him for help pulling Jensen out of a funk. Misha could always pull him out of his own head, where he had admittedly been a lot over the last few months. 

After covid had disrupted filming, Misha had been written out of the last couple of episodes, effectively removing the one person who would have been able to help control his emotions those last few weeks. Ever since, his emotions had been swirling around his head like gale force winds, he hadn’t realized that wrapping up something that had been a part of his life for fifteen years would be this difficult- nearly impossible to say goodbye to. How was he supposed to walk away from that? He’d been in a bit of a daze since leaving set the last time. Some days he had to force himself out of bed, others he would snap at Danneel or the kids for seemingly no reason and some days he simply felt grateful to have had what he had and to have met the people he met. 

Resting his head on Dee’s, squeezing her tightly, he was suddenly overcome with love and appreciation for this patient woman who knew him so well. 

“Thank you Dee. Really. Thank you for everything. Especially over the last few months, I know I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with lately,” he says quietly, voice thick with emotion, a tear or two falling into the tangle of red hair beneath his cheek. Danneel hugs him tightly, leaning back, hands finding their way up to hook behind his neck, pulling him down into a passionate kiss, filled with understanding, acceptance and forgiveness.

“You have every right to be a bit of a mess lately Jay, it hasn’t been easy for any of us. I love you, and always will, never doubt that, you’re my mountain man for life darling.” She says as she pulls back from him, hands tangling in his long hair, pulling a bit teasingly. Just as he leans in for another kiss, hands starting to wander a bit, a small hand tugs at his grey sweatpants. Cracking one eye open looking down to see the tangled mess of brown hair belonging to Zep, he chuckles. “Hey buddy, what can I do for you?” he asks, keeping Dee close, not ready to let go, “When is lunch?” his tiny voice asks. Jensen glances at the clock, noticing it’s almost exactly noon, these kids have better internal clocks than most electronics, he thinks to himself. Placing a quick kiss on Danneels lips he hops off the counter, scooping up his son and going to figure out what to make for lunch, feeling lighter as anticipation of a week alone with Misha flows through him. 


	2. Chapter Two: I Need You to Stay by my Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some sad Jensen, but don't worry, you get some sickeningly sweet fluff to make up for it

After loading up Dee and the kids, squeezing them all tightly, making them promise to call and facetime regularly over the next couple months while he’s in Toronto and in turn promising to send them pictures, Jensen waves goodbye from the driveway, turning back to the house. Entering the large empty space the quiet and calm is palpable, causing that hollow feeling to creep back in, down to his bones. Jensen suddenly feels very lonely, feeling not only the loss of his family, but the loss of what he had created over the last fifteen years, of the once solid relationships he had curated becoming strained and distant the last few months, and his once large support system thinning out to become a very small circle. The emotions crash over and into him, causing him to stagger backwards, back hitting the closed front door, slowly sliding down to the floor, pulling his legs to his chest, head resting on his knees, hands carding through his overgrown hair, tugging in frustration, anger and sadness, staring numbly ahead, lost in his own head.

He isn’t sure how long he sits there, not able to make it into his empty house, unable to face himself alone. Eventually he hears the telltale crunch of car tires in the gravel driveway, a car door opening and slamming shut, footsteps approaching quickly, and then a soft knock on the door. When Jensen doesn’t respond, he hears the handle turning and a strong arm trying to open the door before being blocked by Jensen's weight against it. Jensen hears a familiar huff and a “what the fuck” from the other side of the door. He slowly slides across the hardwood floor just enough for Misha to step inside, eyes full of confusion and a bit of worry as they land on Jensen still sitting on the floor, eyes glassy, staring straight ahead.

Misha immediately drops his things, falling gracefully to his knees in front of Jensen, trying to piece together what had happened, “Hey Jens, what happened? What’s wrong?” he asks,, wanting nothing more than to help but unsure how best to go about that. He knows Dee and the kids hadn’t left too long ago, she had called him to let him know they were on their way back to Austin, checking to see how far away he was because she had been worried about leaving Jensen alone for too long. That had been maybe an hour or so ago, but from the looks of it it hadn’t taken long for the blow of being alone to level Jensen completely. 

Jensen doesn’t answer Misha’s questions, instead he reaches out for him, saying more than his voice is able to express right now, simply needing the comfort of the other man;the one person who can quiet his mind and settle him to his core. Understanding almost immediately Misha adjusts so his back is leaning against the door and scoops the other man into his arms, Jensen's arms snaking around Misha’s middle, clinging desperately, face buried in Misha’s shoulder. Misha gently traces small circles over Jensens upper back, allowing him time to come back, to calm down and not demanding it in any sort of timeframe. Slowly but surely Jensen’s grip starts to loosen, relaxing a bit more, breathing becoming more steady. 

When Jensen finally sits up he wipes his eyes, chuckles, clearly trying to brush off the state Misha had found him in, “Hi Mish,” he whispers, voice still not quite agreeing to work correctly. 

“Hi Jens, do you want to tell me what happened?” Misha asks, not demanding, genuinely concerned and simply wanting to be able to support the man he loves and help him work through whatever this was. Jensen stares at his sock clad feet, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, “I don’t know, I really don’t. Dee and the kids left and when I walked back into the empty house it all just hit me. The show being done, relationships I’ve seemingly destroyed because I’m a stubborn asshole who can’t keep his mouth shut. On top of knowing I won’t see you again for who knows how long after this week, it’s just a lot Mish, this year has been shit.” Jensen explains, voice getting louder the longer he speaks, both anger and exhaustion clear in his voice. 

“It really has been,” replied Misha “but hey, things are looking up right? We have a week together, and then you’re off to become a household name eh? Mr. Soldier Boy,” Misha winks, patting Jensen on the shoulder as he stands, grimacing as he straightens up. 

“Shit, Mish, your hip, I’m sorry, you should have said something, are you okay?” Jensen asks, quickly jumping up, reaching out to help. 

Chuckling at Jensen’s immediate worry, “Jens, chill, I’m fine, just old and stiff.” His comment elicits an eye roll from Jensen who instead leans over and throws Misha’s bag over his shoulder, noticing the large wrapped gift propped up against the wall.

“What’s that?” Jensen asks, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. He wasn’t a child anymore, but Misha’s gifts were always perfect - thoughtful, unique, and always heartfelt. “I thought you being here was my gift - you shouldn’t have gotten me anything.” 

Grinning with that mischievous grin Jensen knew far too well Misha closes the space between them, crashing his lips against Jensens without preamble or warning, wrapping his arms tightly around him, trying to express the love and adoration he feels as well as just how much he had missed him these last few months. As Jensen attempts to deepen the kiss, Misha's hand grips his hair tightly, stepping back just far enough so he is just out of Jensen's reach, chuckling when the other man lets a whine escape. 

“We have all week darling. First, let's make dinner, let me unpack a bit and then maybe I’ll let you open your gift, sound like a deal?” Misha explains, tightening his grip on Jensen's hair just a bit. 

Letting out an over exaggerated sigh, “Yeah, fine, I guess” Jensen whines, throwing in an eye roll for good measure, definitely not trying to goad Misha into retaliation with his insolence. 

“Tsk tsk, you know that kind of obvious bratty behavior will get you nowhere, my boy,” Misha calmly retorts, “Put my bag in the room and meet me in the kitchen please.” Releasing Jensen's hair Misha quickly turns and heads toward the kitchen, Jensen watching him until he is out of eyesight. 

Jensen quickly scampers to the master bedroom, dropping Misha’s bag on the bed and practically running back to the kitchen, sliding across the tiled floor in his socks the final few feet, bumping into Misha’s side with a wild grin plastered on his face. He wraps his arms around Misha’s middle from behind, nose burying in the back of his neck, peppering kisses on his neck. Damn he’d missed him. “Whatcha doin?” Jensen asks, resting his chin on Misha’s shoulder to get a good look at what the other man was working on. 

“Making dinner,” Misha responded, glancing at Jensen out of the corner of his eye, placing a kiss on his cheek, unable to help himself. He’d missed having Jensen in his space, missed his sarcasm and sass and most profoundly the way he seemed to feel lighter, unworried whenever they were together. 

“Whatcha making?” Jensen continues his line of questioning.

“Food” Misha answers, smirking, intentionally being dense which earns him an exasperated sigh from the man still attached to him. 

“No shit Sherlock. What _kind_ of food?” Jensen tries again, knowing he was teetering on the whiney boyfriend end of the spectrum, but this man was infuriating and he couldn’t quite help it.

“Don’t whine,” Misha says, smacking Jensen’s hand as he reaches for a piece of carrot that had just been cut up, “if you must know, I’m making steak, baked potatoes and salad, is that acceptable?” eyebrows raising questioningly, daring Jensen for a snarky response, but the other man simply nods , placing his chin on Misha’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go turn some music on Jens.” 

“Oh, alright!” he answers, maybe a bit too excitedly, sauntering across the room to his phone sitting on the counter he scrolls through a few playlists, trying to figure out what he wants to listen to and grinning mischievously when he comes across a song he knows will get a reaction out of the man across the kitchen. He selects it and the bass fills the air, pumping through the bluetooth speakers throughout the kitchen. He grins waiting for Misha to recognize it - it doesn’t take long. 

“Really Jens?” _(I’m just a bachelor looking for a partner)_ “what are you trying to accomplish with this?” ( _someone who knows how to ride, without even falling off)._

Jensen smirks, _(takes me to my limits)_ wiggling his eyebrows suggestively “Oh I think you know damn well what I’m trying to accomplish with this,” ( _if you’re horny, let's do it, Ride it, my pony)._

“Juvenile” Misha retorts, turning back to the countertop to finish prepping the food _(come and jump on it)._

“Actually…” Jensen says,( _my saddles’ waiting_ ) sneaking back up behind Misha, “it’s Ginuwine” he retorts, tone full of sass and snark, face covered with a smug grin _(just once if I have the chance, the things I would do to you)._

“Oh is it?” Misha responds, spinning unexpectedly and shoving Jensen back until his back hits the refrigerator door, “I’ll send chills up and down your spine” Misha speaks over the matching lyrics in that tone that causes Jensens knees to turn to jelly, hand placed on Jensen’s chest, holding him in place.

“Ride it, my pony” Jensen sings along, with a wink and a very accomplished, smug grin. 

Misha does his best to hide a smirk at the ridiculous man in front of him that he adores so dearly. He puts on his best ‘oh really’ face, left eyebrow raised, eyes boring into him, tempting Jensen to make a move. 

Jensen’s mouth goes dry and he stills immediately when that look is thrown his way. He loves that look, the one that brooks no argument; testing him, challenging him, making it clear if he feels up to the challenge he will no doubt be put in his place quickly and effectively. While he mentally works over the pros and cons of continuing to egg Misha on, the next song fills the air and almost knocks the breath out of him. He’d simply put his massive music library on shuffle, and as the guitar chords started he was overtaken by the love he felt for this stubborn gorgeous man in front of him. 

Grinning like a fool he starts singing, “I can’t count the times I almost said what’s on my mind, but I didn’t,” making sure to add just the right amount of twang into his voice, he was a born and bred Texan after all, “just the other day I wrote down all the things I’d say, but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t,” 

Misha drops his hand from Jensen’s chest as he continues his serenade, “Baby I know that you’ve been wondering mmm so, here goes nothing,” 

Jensen throws his arms around Misha’s neck, resting his forehead on Misha’s, eyes closed, “In case you didn’t know baby I’m crazy ‘bout you and I would be lying if I said that I could live this life without you,”

Misha rests his hands on Jensen’s hips, staring up at this gorgeous and sweet man in front of him, “ Even though I don’t tell you all the time, you had my heart a long long time ago in case you didn’t know.” he doesn’t even realize that tears are falling when he places his head on Jensens’ shoulder, wrapping him tightly in his arms, swaying slightly as Jensen continues singing softly through the next verse and chorus. When he reaches the bridge he pulls back, lifting Misha’s chin with his finger, “You’ve got all of me, I belong to you, yeah you’re my everything. In case you didn’t know I’m crazy ‘bout you,” then places a gentle, chaste kiss on Misha’s mouth, hands resting on his face, thumbs brushing the tears from his cheeks. Jensen then places another kiss on Misha’s forehead and simply holds him until the song flips to whatever the next one is, neither of them taking much notice, simply lost in one another.

After a couple minutes Misha pulls away, wiping his face, “I should probably get dinner in the oven if we want to eat at any point tonight huh?” he chuckles, stepping away when Jensen grabs him by the wrist and pulls him back to him, kissing him fiercely. 

“I love you Mish, seriously. I don’t know what I would do without you,” he says, voice intent, no sense of any levity. He then slaps Misha’s ass and says “Go finish dinner, buddy. I’ll go pick up the living room, the kids trashed it before they left.”

“Okay Jens, and, I love you too,” Misha says, a shy grin on his face as he turns his back busying himself with finishing up dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1st song is "Pony" by Guniwune
> 
> 2nd song is "In Case You Didn't Know" by Brett Young


	3. Do You Remember When

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen finally opens his gift

After finishing up a perfect dinner and cleaning up the kitchen both of the men flop down on the overstuffed couch when Jensen suddenly lights up turning toward Misha.

“So, when do I get my gift?” he asks, eyeing the large still wrapped item propped against the wall by the front door. 

Sighing Misha gets up and walks across the large living room, up the couple steps to the front landing, grabs the gift and heads back to Jensen, who is giddy and hardly staying put on the couch. “Alright alright, I suppose you can open it now,” he says, a slight grin grabbing the corner of his mouth as he takes his place next to Jensen again and hands over the heavy unwieldy item. 

“Umff, holy shit Mish, what the hell is this?” he asks, trying to finagle it into his lap, ripping into the decorative paper. Trying to make sense of brown paper he’s met with, clearly the back of a wooden frame with Misha’s familiar scrawl across it; 

_ J,  _

_ Over a decade of our lives have been spent together in one way or another, I know it’s been difficult saying goodbye to the thing that brought us together and has played such a big part in who we both are separately and together. This is to commemorate those years, our memories and what we are to each other. Happy Birthday baby, I love you _

_ xMish _

Jensen tries reading the message through tears suddenly obscuring his vision, glancing up at the man tucked in next to him all he can do is place a kiss on his cheek, overwhelmed with gratitude and knowing that he hasn’t even gotten to the actual gift yet. 

“Thank you Mish, for everything,” he croaks out.

“Babe, you haven’t even seen the gift yet, nor allowed me to explain any of it, you cannot be crying yet,” Misha says, chuckling and pulling Jensen into his side, soothingly rubbing his back as Jensen flips the frame over and audibly gasps.

“Holy shit, what the...this is fucking fantastic! Did you do all of this?” Jensen asks, awe seeping into his voice as he looks over the massive collage Misha had put together, old hotel key cards, receipts, name cards from various conventions, pieces of memorabilia from the show - literally 15 years worth of memories put in one place.

“Uh, yeah, yeah I did. A lot of it is stuff I kept over the years anyway because they were special to me or reminded me of certain memories with you, but uh, I made the frame too,” he explains, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, obviously a bit bashful for absolutely no reason, “it’s actually made out of wood from a chair I stole from the set, the one that was in Dean's room in the bunker,” he says, a bit sheepishly at admitting his thievery and subsequent destruction of the studios property, but the look on Jensen's face is so worth any petty crimes he may have committed. More than worth it.

Jensen starts glancing over and actually taking in all the various items in the frame, and instantly notices the birth announcements for the three kids and a black and white picture of he and Danneel on their wedding day (his favorite one - them running through the crowd, Dee high fiving someone, himself clearly elated, large grin plastered on his face). His eye wanders across the frame, darting between memories - a bib from the marathon Misha had somehow talked him into suffering through, an astrology page with the compatibility between Leo and Pisces, (which he knows says they are practically perfect together), a pit pass from the NASCAR race he was grand marshal for, a piece of promotion from the 300th episode party. He squints to make out a receipt which upon further inspection was from the trip their families took together to get ice cream together that hot summer evening years ago, the kids all ending up sticky messes that they threw in the pool once they got home, the memory bringing a smile to Jensen’s lips. Looking closer he noticed a picture of a bear with something scrawled over it in black ink, trying to make it out a boisterous laugh burst out of him upon recognition. 

  
“Oh my god, you didn’t! The under-bear debacle! I thought for sure I was done for after that!” he says, wiping his eyes and still laughing at the memory. 

“Rawr” Misha says, quickly folding over with laughter, mimicking Jensen from that day, and repeating what his black scrawl across the picture spelled out.

“God, I was so tired and had obviously drank a bit too much huh?”

“I was so shocked you did that ON STAGE! You made our fans completely melt down and it was wonderful to witness” Misha says, still giggling at the memory of the following weeks within the fandom. 

Continuing his perusal over the items Jensen notices an old crinkled paper coaster and tries making out what it says, but when he’s unable to remember what it correlates to he points to and asks Misha, “What’s this from? That’s a bar in Vancouver, but what’s special about it, we went there all the time.”

Misha glances, then looks up at Jensen, “That’s where we got absolutely shit faced and spent the night together for the first time, that night I puked off the side of the bed,” he adds quietly, not one of his finer moments to say the least. 

“Oh my god, that’s right! I totally forgot about that night, or just blocked it out of my memory, my drunk ass trying to take care of your even drunker ass, god that was a disaster,” he says chuckling, reliving that night in his head. Nothing had really happened, (though it probably would have if they weren’t so out of it), they were in bed together, most of their clothing strewn across the room, when Misha had suddenly and quite aggressively puked over the side of the bed, missing the trash or anything that may have contained the mess completely. Jensen had dragged him to the bathroom, tripping and giggling the whole way because the scene of him half naked literally dragging a man who rivaled himself when it came to height and weight across his room, also almost naked, was too funny in his drink addled mind. Somehow he had managed to settle Mish in the bathtub because it seemed the most logical choice at the time, and he had taken care of most of the mess on his floor before he himself passed out on the bathroom floor keeping watch over Misha, head on the ledge of the bathtub. It was the first time they had technically spent the night together, and that realization sends him into another fit of giggles - nothing they did was traditional or expected clearly. 

Once he had himself back under control the next thing he notices causes him to roll his eyes, “Oh man, that night, I swear, I almost walked away right then and there,” he says, pointing to another receipt, this one displaying three very random, very gross food items, that Misha had somewhat purposefully ordered. 

“Hey, you were hooked from that moment on, don’t lie, you love the chaos I bring to your life,” Misha says, a mock frown on his face, arms crossed on his chest.

“You’re right, I do, but that shit was disgusting,” Jensen replies, placing a kiss on the other man's cheek, causing him to a smile.


	4. I Really Thought I'd Lose You That Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter flashes back to the beginning of the 'breakup theory' era, and lets just say the boys are not kind to one another, but again, I make up for it with some fluff.

“So, what are some of your favorites you added, I feel like I’m missing a lot, there’s so much,” Jensen asks Misha, wanting to make sure he doesn’t miss any of the spectacular things Misha has included. 

“I think my favorite would have to be this right here,’ Misha says, pointing to a small ornate cross, clearly a pendant from a necklace or bracelet, “it’s from when we went to the Vatican, I bought it to do something with to remember that day, and this seemed like the perfect thing,” he said proud of his forethought. That day had been special - Danneel had organized a private mass for Jensen and himself. It had been magical, intimate and overall something he always wanted to remember. 

“I think so too, that was a wonderful day, the day that solidified how special Rome would be to me because of you,” Jensen said, once again pulling Misha close to him, never quite able to get close enough. 

“What is this from?” Jensen asks, pointing to a cardboard sleeve from a coffee cup with a funky little doodle on it, not quite able to place it.

“Oh, that’s from the night Rob was in the hospital, after his stroke, when we weren’t really sure of his prognosis, I debated about adding it, but we both spent the night there, and I was so distraught, you went and got my coffee and came back with that funny little drawing on it, trying to lift my spirits in any small way you could. It just really meant a lot to me at the time.” Misha explained, shrugging like it wasn’t the cutest damn thing ever, the fact he had kept it all these years, remembered it amidst the scary and stressful situation.

Jensen notices something else hospital related and stiffens, “Mish, why did you add that? That wasn’t a great memory, that was terrifying,” Jensen asks, voice shaky at the memory of getting that call, Misha beaten and bloody, stitches in his face, looking small in the hospital bed. Jensen wanted to go out and find the fuckers that did that to him, give them a taste of their own medicine. Misha had practically had to beg him to stay put and breathe. 

“You drew the heart.. after what happened a few years before, we were still trying to find our footing again, it hadn’t been easy, and you drew the heart on my hospital bracelet, and it was when I knew we would be okay,” Misha said, voice thick with emotion at the memory. He had been so angry for so long, all because of that stupid picture posted to social media, the ensuing argument it led to. Misha immediately on the defense, Jensen was panicked and scared and reacted with anger. Jensen had tried apologizing, tried showing him it would be different, but it was a slow process. Then he had been mugged, beaten down by multiple men and the only person he wanted was Jensen. His first call was to Jensen and the first person that showed up at the hospital was Jensen, practically skidding across the linoleum floors, face red with rage, stalking over to his bedside, anger masking his panic and worry, causing Misha to sink back in the bed, trying to avoid his wrath. Jensen asked who had done it, where it had happened, their descriptions and on and on when eventually Misha took his hand and told him he had already talked to the cops, that there was nothing he could do except be there for him. Jensen suddenly relaxed, tears welling in his eyes as he really looked Misha over for the first time, taking in his injuries. He’d then started looking around, before Misha could ask what he was doing he had found a red marker on the table beside the bed, grabbed Misha’s wrist that had his hospital bracelet and drew a small, inconspicuous heart on the underside, meant only for Misha, a way to say all he couldn’t put into words in that moment with the hustle and bustle of everyone around them, and that had meant the world to Misha.

“Oh, I...I didn’t realize it meant that much to you. I mean...yeah, i meant it as a peace offering, as a way to say I loved you and never wanted to lose you, but I wasn’t sure you got all of that from a small little doodle.” Jensen said, voice quiet, soft, thinking back on the years previous to that, the arguments, the bickering, the heartbreak, confusion, panic. It had been a mess for too long and mostly because he was an idiot who couldn’t admit he loved this man from day one.

“I’m really sorry, again, for that dumb picture I posted that night…” Misha says, almost at a whisper, tone hollow.

“Hey hey hey, none of that, we’ve had this conversation hon. I was the one who was dumb, you were having a hard time leaving the show, I was worried about what we were or weren’t, I wasn’t ready to admit to myself I loved you and what that might mean, it wasn’t your fault,” Jensen says softly, setting down the frame on the coffee table and scooping Misha into his arms.

“But, but I purposefully provoked you, I knew it would get a reaction out of you, I knew it would piss you off and just give me an excuse to be angry back and walk away,” MIsha expresses, voice small, withdrawn, thinking back to that night. 

__

_They had consumed far too much alcohol throughout the evening, but Misha was feeling light, happy, actually relaxed for the first time in a long time. He had gotten the chance to show Jensen and the other guys some of the hidden secrets of the city that he had discovered over his years living here. Overall it had been an extremely pleasant evening filled with great food and drinks and an abundance of laughter. They had made it back to their hotel, the group stumbling to the elevators and peeling off as they made it to their respective floors until it was only Jared, Jensen and Misha left. After saying their good nights to Rob. the doors slipping_

_ close again Jared pulls out his phone, noticing for the first time that it’s not even ten o’clock yet. _

_ “What the hell guys? It’s still early, why the fuck are we already calling it a night!?” Jared says, voice getting louder the longer he speaks, “hey, you guys should come back to my room! I bet we can convince some of the other guys to come wrestle!” He says, grabbing Misha in a headlock, messing up his already unruly hair, with all the energy of an untrained puppy.  _

_ “Oomf, gah, Jared, dammit, get off me,” Misha grunts, trying to wiggle his way free from the giant's vice grip but finding very little success.  _

_“Come on Jar, let him go,” Jensen says, swatting Jared’s arm currently wrapped around the shorter man's neck._

_When he finally loosens his grip Misha shoves him off, standing up, straightening his shirt, shooting his best death glare in Jared’s direction, huffing dramatically. “I’m not entirely sure why the hell you think I would voluntarily enter your room when your main goal is simply seeing just how much bodily harm you can inflict upon me. I think I’ll just stick to the safety of my own room thank you very much,” Misha says, really not up for participating in what will ultimately be false machismo and figurative dick measuring contests among a group of fully grown men._

_ Jensen giggles next to Misha, “damn Mish, did someone forget to remove that stick from your ass after filming your Cas scenes earlier?”  _

_ Misha's left eyebrow shoots up, pinning Jensen with a look that very clearly expresses just how unamused he is with his joke, “I hardly think what is or is not in my ass is any of your concern,” he says, pushing past both men as the elevator doors upon, disappearing down the long corridor leading to his room.  _

_ “Jesus, what the hell is his problem?” Jared asks, not really looking for an answer. _

_“Who the hell knows man, it’s not like I’m his keeper,” Jensen responds, a hint of defensiveness in his tone._

_ “Uh, right. Anyway man, my room? Come on! I have some of that whisky you like, and I’m sure we can goad Rob into a wrestling match or two! Please J, it’s so early still,” Jared practically whines as they somewhat unsteadily make their way down the hall to their rooms.  _

_ Jensen chuckles at the thought of Rob trying to take down either of them, “Dude, you’ll kill Rob, don’t do that to him, you know he can’t say no, especially when he’s been drinking! Anyway thanks man, but I think I'm just going to head to my room and take it easy,” he says, willing Jared to focus his energy elsewhere for the rest of the night so Jensen can do what he would really rather do without fear of being caught.  _

_ “Really? But Jens, it’s like barely ten!” Jared whines, fully activating annoying younger sibling mode. Thankfully his phone pings just as he’s undoubtedly ramping up for a guilt trip of epic proportions. Pulling the phone out of his pocket after an attempt or two, he reads the notification and a giddy grin spreads across his face, “never mind man, don’t worry about it, enjoy the rest of your night,” he says, quickly unlocking and opening his door, stepping inside.  _

_ “Hey Jar,” Jensen calls, Jared poking his head back out before the door slams shut, “was the Gen?” Jensen asks, a knowing grin plastered on his face, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. _

_Jared rolls his eyes but he’s unable to suppress his smile, “no...I mean, mayb-yeah, it is, shut up,” he says, allowing the door to slam as he disappears into his room. Jensen left standing in the hallway, shaking his head and chuckling at his lovestruck friend._

_Before he fully realizes what he’s doing he’s raising his fist to knock on the closed door when it’s unexpectedly flung open, a hand reaching out, grabbing the front of Jensen's shirt, and yanking him inside somewhat aggressively. Ultimately resulting in him tumbling through the door, slamming into Misha's chest, causing them both to go crashing to the floor in a tangle of flailing limbs and a symphony of curses, grunts and groans._

_ “What the fuck Mish?” Jensen spits out as he shoves the other man off him, having somehow turned in the fall, cushioning their fall. Grunting as elbows dig into his ribs when Misha pushes himself up to look down at Jensen, that all too familiar glint in his eye.  _

_ “Sorry Jens, I heard Jared’s door close and I was hoping you would make your way to me, so I was watching out the peephole, and when I saw you I couldn’t help myself,” Misha explains, suddenly crashing his lips into Jensen's, then nearly as quickly pulling away, causing Jensen to whine at the sudden loss, “shit, my phone,” Misha says, scrambling off of Jensen when he sees the device laying on the floor a few feet away, clearly having flung out of his hand at Jensens sudden impact a few moments ago. He picks it up, entering his security code, clicking around for a minute making sure it still works after the sudden introduction with the floor.  _

_“Really Mish? Your phone is more important than kissing me?” Jensen groans as he rolls over and shoves himself up and off the ground, bracing a hand on the wall until the room ceases spinning, then ambling his way over to Misha, unceremoniously removing his t-shirt in one fluid motion, flinging it to the floor. With Misha still paying attention to his phone Jensen presses himself up against the other man's back, snaking his arms around Misha's middle, hooking his chin over his shoulder. When he still gets no response from Misha he starts peppering light kisses over the other man's neck, sucking lightly over the sensitive skin behind his ear, nibbling along his jawline, hands wandering underneath Misha's shirt._

_ Misha lets a small gasp escape his lips, attention still seemingly completely on his phone, when in reality he’s not paying one shred of attention to anything on the screen, he’s simply enjoying Jensen's attempts at distraction.  _

_Jensen let’s out a frustrated sign, dropping his forehead to Misha's shoulder, “Misha, what the fuck are you doing?”_

_ “Mmm nothing important, scrolling social media, seeing what my minions are up to,” he says, nonchalantly, a slight grin on his face.  _

_Jensen's head shoots up, glaring daggers at the back of Misha's head. Hands still resting on Misha's hips Jensen gets an idea and slowly slinks them along the top of Misha's jeans, then suddenly, he reaches out and grabs the phone from Misha's hands, pulling it to him and holding it high in air when the shorter man turns on him and tries grabbing it away from Jensen._

_ “Give it back Jensen,” Misha demands, hands on his hips, unwilling to play Jensen's game of keep away. _

_ “Mmmm I don’t think I will,” Jensen says, tapping his chin with his pointer finger, apparently debating the merits of returning the phone to its rightful owner.  _

_Suddenly Misha lunges forward, shoving Jensen backward, clawing at his arms, attempting to grab his property as they fall onto the bed, Misha gaining some leverage, pinning Jensen down, plucking the phone from his hand, holding it over his head victoriously, a smug grin on his face._

_ Not one to admit defeat easily Jensen grabs Misha's waist and tries reversing their positions, but his leg gets caught in the comforter and instead they wind up laying nose to nose, cell phone bouncing toward the headboard out of Misha's hand. They both notice at the same time and lunge upward on the bed simultaneously, crashing into each other yet again, grappling, pulling, pushing, vying for purchase on the suddenly coveted item, both giggling like crazy at the absurdity. Suddenly a flash blinds Jensen and he releases Misha's arms as he turns away from the bright light on instinct, after a second Jensen realizes what happened. _

_“Did you, did you just take a picture of me? So not fair man! I call cheating!” Jensen says sitting upright on the bed, staring incredulously at the man still sprawled out amidst the jumble of white linens with a look of immense satisfaction playing over his features._

_Misha simply shrugs, attention focusing back on his phone before he spins the screen toward Jensen, “I did what I had to do, but I got an adorable picture of you.”_

_“I’m not adorable,” Jensen grumbles as he leans closer to look at the picture in question, and he has to admit, it is kind of adorable, eyes intensely green, freckles scattered across his nose, clearly laughing. He huffs a noncommittal response before spinning off the bed and padding to the bathroom. As he flushes the toilet his phone pings, fishing it out of his pocket he grins at Misha's name on his screen and shakes his head, the man is on Twitter way too much, he may need to stage an intervention. Opening the tweet he immediately feels panic crash over him, his breath suddenly coming too short, too shallow, his lungs collapsing in on themselves. He reads over the post again, making sure he didn’t simply hallucinate it, “I’m not one to talk about coworkers, but Jensen jus let me take this picture of him shirtless” followed by the picture Misha had just shown him._

_His panic quickly flares into white hot anger, he flings open the bathroom door causing it to slam into the wall behind it. The noise making Misha jump to his feet as Jensen rounds the corner and shoves him back down on the bed, “what the fuck Misha? Do you think this is funny?” He yells, gesturing at his now black phone screen._

_ “Wha-Jens, what are you….” Misha tries interjecting, completely and utterly confused by the man's sudden anger. _

_ “I thought you understood, I thought you were fucking smarter than this! Do you know what people are going to say? What theories and rumors they’re going to come up with now? Because I do!” Jensen continues his tirade, looming over Misha still laying confused and sprawled on the bed below him, “You may not give a shit what people say about you, but some of us actually have a fucking career that has potential, some of us know how to keep our heads down, not cause problems, some of us are fucking adults Misha!” Jensen spits the last words at him, chest heaving, eyes wild.  _

_ “Jens, I don’t...I don’t understand, what happened?” Misha asks, tone soft, genuinely confused and worried, his alcohol addled brain unable to make the pieces fit together.  _

_ Jensen scoffs and shakes his head, “unbelievable, you fucking post that picture, tell the world we are together and I’m half naked, then act like you didn’t do anything? I know you’re all about your social media and your ‘minions’, but this is another level man,” Jensen says, voice quieter, instead his tone is dripping with contempt and disgust.  _

_ “I’m fucking done, I should have known you would push this, that you would try outing me. New flash Misha, not everyone is a fucking queer, not everyone fucks anything that walks by, some of us have standards and morals, some of us are actually decent fucking people. Just because you and your wife act like you're so enlightened and above anyone else doesn’t mean you’re right! You know what you are? You’re deprived and—“  _

_ “Don’t you fucking dare Jensen,” Misha shoves off the bed, crowding Jensen backwards, voice rough, eerily calm and even, “Don't you talk about Vicki, drag me all the fuck you want if it makes you feel superior and helps you walk away, but do not talk about my wife, she is not involved in this conversation, and if you pull that bullshit again, I will make sure everyone knows you let me fuck you, and that you enjoyed it. Hell, I have nothing to hide Jens, that’s you, I’m not the one refusing to address my baggage and admit how fucked up I am, I’ve been there and done that already, decades ago, once again, that’s you Jens. Deal with your shit, or don’t, I don’t fucking care anymore, but do not, I repeat DO NOT try dragging me simply to create some false narrative that’s easier for you and your precious masculinity to handle,” Misha shoves at Jensen's chest to accentuate his final few words, his tone cold, calculated, volume never rising above his normal speaking voice.  _

_ “Don't fucking touch me,” Jensen spits out, his anger barely controlled, vibrating through him. Some small part of his brain knows he’s being irrational, knows he’s fucking up one of the best things in his life, knows he’s throwing this all away because he’s scared and can’t face himself.  _

_“That’s funny, just last week you were begging me to touch you, begging me to do absolutely depraved things to you, writhing and panting as I…” before Misha can finish Jensen's fist connects with his ribs, forcing the air out of him in a sudden rush, chest burning, trying to gulp in air with none coming until his diaphragm stops spasming, leaving him gasping and coughing as he catches his breath, staring up at Jensen noticing for the first time the wild panic and fear in his eyes._

_ Jensen doesn’t remember throwing the punch, doesn’t even realize it’s happened until he feels the familiar tingling across his knuckles, sees Misha doubled over clutching his side, gasping for air, then staring up at Jensen, a flash of genuine fear plays across his face but is quickly replaced with something Jensen has never seen before, somehow simultaneously completely dejected and broken yet brimming with fire and rage threatening to erupt just below the surface, now visible through the cracks in his façade. Immediately the weight of what was happening lands squarely on Jensen's chest, refusing to be brushed off or buried, forcing itself to be felt fully, the impending loss and heartbreak.  _

_ Jensen's knees buckle, staggering backwards, catching himself on the dresser, he stares at Misha, replaying the horrible things he said, hating himself more with every passing minute.  _

_ “Mish, I’m...fuck, Mish, shit, what the, dammit, Mish I’m sorry, I’m, I don’t know, I’m fucked up, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, fuck,” he pleads, realizing fully that he has effectively ruined anything they had or may have had, knowing full well there is no fixing this, but being unable to make himself walk out that door, wanting to steal just a minute more in the same room as the man he loves, he hadn’t told Misha, but he did, and that didn’t matter one bit anymore.  _

_ “Get out,” Misha says from where he sits on the edge of the rumpled bed, eyes locked on his clasped hands in front of him, elbows resting on his knees. Voice too calm, too even.  _

_ “Mish…” Jensen pleads, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s pleading for, knows this is over, knows he’s going to walk out that door and after this weekend is over never see Misha again. That thought causes a pain to shoot through his chest, stealing his breath, causing the tears to start flowing freely.  _

_ Misha continues staring straight ahead, knowing if he looks up his resolve will shatter, knows he won’t be able to stop himself from pulling Jensen into his arms if he sees those eyes filling with tears. When he hears the first sob that racks through the other man Misha digs his fingernails into his palms, closing his eyes, forcing every scrap of energy he has left into not breaking down while Jensen is still in the room. Every guttural noise escaping from Jensen feels like a knife twisting in Misha's chest, his own breathing staggered, teetering on the precipice, he knows he’s second away from falling, “Jensen, I said leave,” Misha says, voice still even somehow.  _

_ Jensen flinches at the words, there’s no warmth, no care or concern in them, Misha is sending him away with zero emotion, shoving him off to be someone else’s problem, and that fucking hurts, that causes the anger to flair back up, standing back up Jensen turns to leave, “You know what? Fuck you Misha, fuck you for making me think this could ever work, for making me believe for a minute there wasn’t something deeply fucked up with the whole situation, and fuck you for making me fall in love with you,” his voice barely above a whisper, thick with emotion. He waits with his hand on the door, hoping for some kind of reaction from Misha, something small for him to cling to, so he can trick himself into believing maybe Misha still cares, but getting nothing, he opens the door, letting it slam behind him as he walks away from everything that might have been. He makes it back to his room, closing his door quietly, he makes sure it’s locked then sinks to the floor, pulls his knees close, buries his face in his arms as he lets the sobs overtake him.  _

_ The sounds of the door slamming shut snaps the small shred of composure Misha has left, the emotions finally wash over him all at once, he throws things across the room, yanks the rumpled blankets off the bed, throwing them on the floor, kicks the bedframe barely registering the pain radiating through his foot. He stalks over to the mini fridge grabbing every single travel sized bottle of alcohol supplied, opening the first three and drinking them down in rapid succession as he paces the length of his room like a caged animal. On his fourth or fifth pass he steps on something, curses and looks down to see his phone, a tidal wave of anger and self-hatred crashes into him at the realization that this was all his fault. If he wouldn't have posted that fucking picture, typed out that stupid description, fuck, he’s the reason one of the best things in his life just walked out the door. After deleting the tweet, the only small concession he can provide Jensen, he flings his phone at the wall causing it to shatter, pieces flying every which way.  _

_After a dozen or so more bottles of booze and a few hundred more trips across his room he finally collapses on the bed, curling in on himself, feeling numb, untethered, utterly hopeless and broken._

_The following days, weeks and months blur together, he drinks too much, starts smoking again when he’s with Darius, which is often, using him to chase away the cold lonely nights when he’s not home with Vicki. When he is home he cycles between feeling completely numb and broken, hardly able to get out of bed, let alone help in any real way around the house. Or he’ll be irritable and short tempered, snapping at his family for no reason, blaming them for any problem that arises or issues that need fixing. He knows he’s a miserable person to be around, and he doesn’t blame the friends he loses contact with, the way his family tends to steer clear of him most days or how eventually even Darius comes up with reasons he can’t join him for a weekend._

_ Which is why Misha is genuinely shocked to see Jensen standing on his porch when he angrily rips the door open, ready to tell off the solicitor he assumed had rung the doorbell. Instead he finds himself staring into those brilliant green eyes he hadn’t seen in months, and suddenly he wants nothing more than to fling himself at this man he’s missed so damn much, apologize until his voice is hoarse, tell him he loves him, he’s always loved him. Instead, his pride swoops in and takes over, thankfully, Jensen is nothing if not persistent.  _

_ Standing on the doorstep he is sweating, even though there’s a noticeable chill in the Washington air. He feels unbelievably stupid, why had he let Dee convince him this was the “right thing to do”? Yes, he missed Misha terribly, but why was he the one making the damn big romantic gesture!? Misha wasn’t completely innocent in this whole debacle either, and yet, here he is, sweating and shivering at the same time, holding his guitar, finding it impossible to press the doorbell. Eventually he does, he doesn’t remember doing it, he isn’t sure if he’s relieved or annoyed Misha is the one who opens the door, a look of shock quickly fading into annoyance and anger.  _

_ “This was clearly a bad idea, I’m sorry, I’ll just…” Jensen trails off, turning his back to head back to his rental car. _

_ “Jens, what? Why are you here? You clearly flew here and rented a car for a purpose, what?” Misha says, slightly annoyed, but clearly curious as to what had caused this man who apparently couldn’t stand him to show up at his door hundreds of miles from his own home. _

_ “Well, uh, I was going to sing to you…?” Jensen replies, voice pitching up at the end making what should have been a statement sound more like a question. Misha makes a ‘go on’ motion with his hand, prompting Jensen to start playing, then softly and timidly start in on the song he had prepared.  _

_ “I know you're hurt, I know it’s my fault but I’ve kept I’m sorry locked up in a vault. I know that time keeps going on and words by themselves can’t right all the wrongs. In a world that’s gone crazy you don’t know what’s true most people don’t change, but some people do.” Jensen falters a bit with the chords when he finally looks up at Misha, seeing tears starting to fill his eyes, still standing tall, arms crossed, but that façade starting to crack ever so slightly, so he continues on. _

_ “Some people quit drinking too much, some people quit lying. Some people decide to grow up, but it’s never good timing. Most wouldn’t forgive what I’ve put you through but I’m here tonight hoping some people do.” As he moves onto the next verse Misha takes a slight step toward him, Jensen looks, pinning him with his stare, wanting to finish what he had to say before Misha stops him. _

_ “Some people say sorry to hear it’s okay but I know it’s not so you don’t have to say that you understand ‘cause I know you don’t, neither do I but that don’t mean that I won’t. Try everyday to show you the truth most people don’t change, but some people do,” continuing onto the chorus once more Misha makes his way over to him, patiently waiting until he’s finished, he speeds along then makes sure to keep eye contact as he sings the part that matters most in his mind.  _

_ “So whether you kiss me, or you slam the door, just know that I’m better than I was before…” getting ready to head into the chorus for the final time Misha instead grabs him and lands an almost frantic and frenzied kiss on his lips, taking him by surprise.  _

_ The rest of the night is spent apologizing, hashing some things out, and starting the long process of healing and figuring out what they are, taking the first steps back to them, back to normalcy, burying hatchets and anger, doing their best to replace them with love and comfort.  _

  
  


“Hey, it got me to serenade you for the first time didn’t it? I would call that an overall win eh?” Jensen says trying to joke and shake themselves out of this particular hurtful string of memories, which seemingly works when he hears Misha chuckle.

“Yeah yeah, now I can’t get you to shut up most of the time,” he sniffles and sits back up, shooting Jensen a grin and a wink. 

“Oh you know you love it!” Jensen responds.

“Yeah Jens, I really really do” Misha says, placing a kiss on the other man's cheek and turning his attention to the frame again, snuggling in just a bit closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am well aware the song Jensen sings to Misha (Some People Do by Old Dominion) was not released when this feasibly would have happened, but it was too perfect not to use.


	5. With Rome Below Us That Day

“Wait, why are there...oh, pebbles, because you’re my pebble right?” Jensen asks, remembering the panel clearly. Misha wearing the shirt he bought for him, the one that matched his eyes perfectly, Jensen so overwhelmed with love for the man he couldn't help himself adding him into the answer to the question about Dee being his rock in life, and it wasn’t a lie. Dee absolutely is his rock, a badass and a wonderful mother, an amazing wife and someone who takes more of his shit than anyone else, but Misha, he was just as important to him, in very different ways, making a comparison didn’t even feel right. They both filled roles in his life that literally no one else ever could, they were his people, his soul mates, and the fact they were both chaotic weirdos just made it that much better. 

Pulling him out of his thoughts Misha started laughing, “Do you remember this? The glitter was everywhere for so long! I couldn’t get rid of it!” he exclaimed, pointing toward a handmade valentine that Jensen had made him.

“I thought those were auctioned off for charity or something, how the hell do you have that?” Jensen asked, mouth hanging open. He had been kind of sad his valentine wouldn’t be able to actually keep the card he had made for him, but he had shown his appreciation later that night, and left no doubt that he appreciated the gesture. 

“Who do you think bought it?” Misha asked, eyebrow cocked questioningly, “I couldn’t let someone else have the card my lovely boyfriend made me,” he said, voice dipping down into that register Jensen loved oh so much, bringing him back to the events of that evening, causing a shiver to run down his back.

“Oh, well, I’m glad,” Jensen says, voice breaking, throat dry, heat raising in his cheeks as Misha simply stares him down, darkly chuckling, like he doesn’t know what that does to Jensen.

Misha points to the orange lei from their convention in Hawaii, “Do you remember what we did with that?” he asks, feigning innocence. 

Gulping down a breath and swallowing thickly Jensen just nods, memories of that night flashing through his head.

“Mmmm, how I tied you up with the different ones we had gotten throughout the weekend, made you beg for every release, and turned your ass a lovely shade of red to match your shirt. I really liked Hawaii,” Misha said, voice deep, lips right against Jensen's ear, kissing down his neck as he finished his reminiscing of that night, causing goosebumps to rise on Jensen's skin, a low moan escaping. Chuckling again Misha pulls away, Jensen almost toppling over as he leans closer, trying to will him not to stop, a small whine coming from him when he realizes his silent pleas aren’t working, cracking an eye open to look at Misha. 

“Hey, no fair,” he sighs, trying to crawl closer to Misha, but the frame getting in the way causing him to huff in frustration, ready to push the frame away to have better access when something catches his eye, “You didn’t, you fucker,” he says, staring at the rusty nail placed in the top corner of the frame.

Misha follows his eyeline and bursts out laughing, “Hey, it’s a memory and important to the ending of the show,” he tries arguing, “Look, I also added the Samulet, scripts with the unedited ‘I love you’s’, the cover page of my first episode, I added good things too!” Misha exclaims, still chuckling at Jensen’s reaction to the nail. He knows Jensen was upset at his character's ending, but he has tried adding some levity around it since they found out. 

“Oh, I also added that,” Misha says, pointing to a print out of a screenshot he had sent Jensen the night his final episode aired showing ‘Destiel’ trending above possibly the biggest election in the United States in their lifetimes. That whole evening was such a whirlwind and mix of emotions for both of them, but that, that had been the cherry on top of a long long road and dammit, he was proud. Even if the rest of the final season had been somewhat of a dumpster fire, with problem upon problem, he was proud of his part, even if it was cut short. 

It was then that Jensen notices the champagne cork and his name placard from their final SDCC, which instantly brings tears to his eyes. They represented some of the lasts that went along with ending the show, and that hollow feeling threatens to creep back in. Shaking his head, he tries focusing on some of the other happier memories represented like the countless JIBs commemorated by countless hotel key cards with the various years scrawled upon them in various colored ink and marker, most from the same hotel, a place that had become more to the two of them, so many memories in those walls, not all positive, but almost all of them holding special places in his heart because of what they meant for his relationship with Misha. 

Jensen points to a few empty spaces that stuck out a bit among the cacophony and chaos of all the other objects “what’s up with these?” he asks.

“Oh, well, those are for the things we still have coming up once the world opens up again, final JIB keys, convention memories and the like,” Misha explains, a bit forlorn thinking about more lasts coming up, not wanting to admit he was terrified he would be forgotten once they were over, by the fandom, by the friends he had made, by Jensen. That thought caused his chest to hurt, the breath knocked out of him. 

Jensen notices Misha go still, eyes staring straight ahead, panic flooding his features, “Mish, what, what happened, hey, what’s going on?” he asks, panicking, worried that something is seriously wrong.

Misha turns to Jensen, eyes filling with tears, “please don’t forget me Jens, when you become some big tv star, when everyone knows your name, please don’t forget about me,” he croaks out, hardly audible, gasping against the rising panic and anxiety starting to consume him as he’s quickly enveloped and pulled into Jensen's space.

“Do you really think I could ever forget you Mish? You? The man who taught me who I am, the one who has brought me out of my shell, helped me be comfortable with all aspects of myself. The chaotic enigma of a man that is Dimitri, you really think I could ever forget you?” Jensen asked, voice soft, not accusing, simply trying to make the other man see how absolutely insane that thought was. Misha meant more to Jensen than almost anyone else in his life, he couldn’t forget him even if he wanted to. He places a soft and lingering kiss to Misha’s forehead, allowing the man to cry, to process the losses of the last year, the shitty events that kept them apart so long, all the things Jensen himself had been grappling with even earlier that day. Jensen rubbed soothing patterns along Misha’s back, his other hand carding through his hair as Misha clings to Jensen, reminiscent of how they had started out their time together a few hours ago, just reversed. They were both messes right now, but at least they could be messes together. 


	6. All It Changed Once I Had That

They lay on the couch for a while, both of their breathing steady and calm, soaking in the time with each other, the house quiet, snow falling outside, peaceful, serene and so needed for both of them. Eventually Misha groans and moves to get up, Jensen tightening his grip on him, not wanting to let go, “Jens, babe, I just have to go to the restroom, I’ll be right back, I promise,” he says, voice sleepy, placing a kiss on Jensen's mouth who immediately grabs the back of Misha’s head, deepening the kiss, causing Misha to growl in the back of his throat, “Okay, okay, you go to the bedroom, be ready for me by the time I’m done, understood?” Misha commands, voice deep and gravely, like Jensen was ever going to argue with that.

“Yes sir!” he says excitedly, practically jumping off the couch and running for the bedroom. Misha chuckles as he watches him go, tripping over his own feet in his excitement, “I’m okay,” he yells down the hall as he catches himself on the wall.

“You’re incorrigible,” Misha yells back shaking his head, lifting himself off the couch, removing his sweater as he walks across the living room, ideas of what's to come running through his head, things he had been thinking of for the last few months, damn he’d missed this man and was so looking forward to a week with him at his mercy. They were going to have a good time, he was sure of that. 

Rounding the corner to the bedroom after finishing in the main bathroom he yells down the hallway both as a warning and to give Jensen a second to make any needed last minute adjustments just in case, “You better be ready when I walk through that door or you’re in for it. Well... you’re in for it anyway I suppose,” a dark tone painting his words, already excited for all he had planned for the man undoubtedly now kneeling on the bedroom floor, waiting to give all of himself over. He isn’t sure how the hell he got so lucky, but he would appreciate this man while he had him, make sure he knows how much he is loved and cherished and appreciated before they have to leave one another again for who knows how long.

As he walks into the bedroom Jensen peers up at him, unable to hide the giddy grin spreading across his face and the complete adoration dancing in his brilliant green eyes. 

“Did I say you could look up from the floor?” Misha asks, tone stern, but unable to hide the awe at seeing the other man waiting for him.

“No sir,” Jensen responds, casting his eyes back to the ground, but still unable to wipe the grin off his face as Misha makes his way into the room, closing the door behind him ready to take this man apart piece by piece, time and time again over the next seven days then put him back together again and again. 

There was no doubt in his mind of the feelings between the two of them and no matter what happened in the coming months or years they both knew the other wasn’t going anywhere, they would be there for one another, they would steal whatever time together they could no matter what it took, they knew they were a constant and something neither of them would give up without one hell of a fight and that centered Misha like nothing else, a sense of calm and contentment washing over him for the first time in nearly a year at the realization. As he walks over to Jensen, placing fingers under his chin, prompting him to stand up, placing a kiss on his mouth, unhurried, gentle, the complete opposite of what the rest of their evening would be but needed to convey his feelings in that moment to the younger man. 

“I love you Jens, so fucking much, and I always will,” Misha says, pulling him in tightly. 

Jensen, a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in tone, but definitely not complaining about it whispers back “I love you too Mish, and same, always.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be back with a lovely smut filled time stamp, but no promises. I have a few other stories in the works as apparently I'm committed to giving this 'writer' thing a shot so let me know if you want anything specific!


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